


Coming Home

by Anonymous



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 10:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18386879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: From the corner of her eye, she can see him watching her. "What's wrong?"He clears his throat, then, "You have some tomato sauce on your chin."Well maybe you should lick it off," she snorts, amused with herself because Bob loves tomatoes, but then she notices him freeze and, "I didn't-"Or what happened when Eliza got back from Wondercon :')





	Coming Home

  
She gets back around 6pm already kicking off her heels before closing the door behind her. Eliza pulls her hair free of the clips and runs her fingers through the tangled strands, freeing them. The floors cool beneath her feet as she pads up the few steps that lead her into the living room.

On the far side of the room Bob’s sprawled out on the sofa asleep; hair amiss and glasses lopsided across his face. He’s cute, she thinks. _Really_ cute. When she reaches him she pulls the throw from the back of the couch and drapes it over him gently.

Despite her best efforts though, Bob stirs and cracks one eye open. "Hey," he says voice thick and heavy with sleep.

"Hi." She offers him a small smile. "Sorry, I didn't want to wake you."

He props himself up with his elbows. "Nah, you're good." He takes his glasses off and rubs a hand over his face. "Wanna watch a movie?"

"Yeah, let me just go change."

It's about thirty minutes later when Eliza appears from her room dressed in one of Bob's large T-shirts. She borrowed his shirt the other night, too tired to unpack, and since then it's become a _thing_. He doesn't say anything so she assumes her doesn't mind. Bob's sitting on the edge of the sofa opening a pizza box up.

"Oh pizza, I'm starving."

He grabs a slice but picks the tomatoes off before offering her it.  

She takes it then flings herself on the sofa next to him. “What are we watching?” she asks as she takes her first bite. 

“Iron man.” He presses play. 

Iron Man is her _favorite_ movie of all time and Bob knows that. 

It’s about 10 minutes later and she’s moved onto her third slice when she snuggles into his side and tells him, "I missed you," because she's tired of dancing around whatever _this_ is. Honestly, life's too fucking short and she's already wasted years hiding how she felt around him because of _her_. But she's gone--has been for a while-so. 

"Missed you, too." He wraps his arm around her, pulling her in closer. "How was the con?"

“It was good, would have been better if you were there though.” 

He hums in agreement. 

From the corner of her eye, she can see him watching her. "What's wrong?"

He clears his throat, then, "You have some tomato sauce on your chin," he motions his hand

Well maybe you should lick it off," she snorts, amused with herself because Bob loves tomatoes, but then she notices him freeze and, "I didn't-"

He shifts from behind her--one arm propped up on the top of the sofa and the other by her side. He flicks his gaze from her eyes to her lips before his tongue takes one big swipe up her chin, removing the sauce that was there only a minute ago. 

Her breath catches in her throat. 

But he doesn’t just stop there, no, his mouth moves to her neck--teeth grazing her skin, rough but not hard, and she can’t stop the moan that slips from between her lips. 

His hand runs down her arm until he reaches her hand and he takes the pizza slice then throws it into the box on the coffee table.

"Hey! Maybe I was gonna eat that."

"Oh really," he pulls back and lifts a brow and offers her a lopsided smile and fuck he's gorgeous. "How about I just kiss you instead?"

His face is inches from hers. Those dark eyes draw her in. She runs her finger along his jaw--a little bit of stubble breaking through. Wrapping both of her arms around his neck, she pulls him closer. Those perfect lips are _right there_. "Well, what are you waiting for?" She smirks.

And just like that his lips are on hers in less than a second.

This isn't the first they've kissed--not by a long-shot, but this time it feels different, it's like time has stopped to allow them this moment. Just him and her, that's all that matters. It’s not hard or fast but soft and slow. Like they want to savour this moment. It feels like coming _home_. 


End file.
